


nowhere

by Audity



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Artist!Grantaire, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audity/pseuds/Audity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are they ever really what we expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nowhere

 “But if you don't see any good in the world, where do you get the inspiration for your paintings?” Enjolras turned on a heel, running his hand along the top of a fence.

Grantaire bit his lip, hoping up to sit on the fence. “What is the only thing that I paint? The only type of painting, I mean.”

“All I've ever seen is nature, but what's your point?”

Sighing, Grantaire ran a paint stained finger around on the white painted wood, drawing a design only he could see. “Right. I never draw anything that humanity has fucked up already, because while I might be a cynic I don't want the world to be fucked over. I want it to get better, I just don't think it can, so I preserve what hasn't actually gone to shit.”

Enjolras turned around. “I still don't get it.”

“This is the only thing that humans haven't screwed up, and I want to preserve it before we actually do. I've never drawn people either. No portraits, self or otherwise, because whether they want to be or not, humans themselves are fucked up.” The dark haired artist paused a moment. “Although, there's no way that the way your hair is falling over your forehead like that is human. Same goes for the way your shirt is just slightly off center on your chest. And I could spend years on the simple yet aggravating way your lips curve just slightly when I make a jape that causes you to smile just a little bit, even though you try to hide it. I could paint that for a while, though first I'd ask myself why the hell I actually just told you that.”

Scraping mud off the bottom of his shoes, Enjolras turned to look at Grantaire, neither of them saying anything. “You know,” he said quietly, “the first time I saw your paintings, I wanted to know exactly who made them. Who could see the beauty in the world. And while it's true that you're not quite what I was expecting--”

“What were you expecting?” Grantaire interjected, almost quiet enough that Enjolras didn't hear him.

Enjolras chuckled, a low noise from his chest that set Grantaire on edge, though not in a bad way. “Some boring, old gray haired man who would be conservative to the bone and give me a quick thanks before sending the young radical revolutionary on their way. Instead I got a dark haired cynic who seems content to fight with me until the end of the world, and the realization that I might not mind doing just that.”

“And when I got the email, I didn't expect you to be like you are either. So goddamn irritating, but I can't help the way I stare at every little movement you make, constantly wanting to draw even the little folds of your t-shirt.” Grantaire hopped down off the fence, glancing briefly at the cloud of dust that popped up around his worn, dark blue, paint stained Converse. “I especially didn't expect for the two of us to be standing out in the middle of nowhere while I explained my cynicism, the whole time wanting to kiss you for all either of us were worth.”

Enjolras took a step towards Grantaire, closing any great distance between them, reaching his hand out to wrap his around the other man's wrist. “Then do it. Kiss me.”

It was a shame there wasn't anyone out there to paint the overdone farm scene, with the two small figures contrasting each other, one with dark hair, the other light, as they started something no one would ever be able to paint, or put into words, or write down. But, if no one could put it down anyway, maybe it was better that it was only the two of them, sharing something special.

**Author's Note:**

> BASICALLY I blame Night.
> 
> And thanks for reading <3


End file.
